


We Are But Memories

by StarKnightStark



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Amnesia, Assassin Tony Stark, Brainwashing, Extremis, F/M, Hydra Natasha Romanov, Hydra Tony Stark, Merchant of Death, Red Room, Red Room Natasha Romanov, Red Room Tony Stark, russian tony stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-07-28 18:34:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20068648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarKnightStark/pseuds/StarKnightStark
Summary: Red Room!Tony Hydra!Tony Red Room!Natasha Hydra!NatashaIronWidow





	1. Prologue

_ November 7th, 2012 _

_ Avengers Tower Communal Kitchen _

_ New York, New York, United States of America (USA) _

Clint had had enough. He was tired of pretending not to notice Tasha’s wistful glances at Tony Stark of all people. He was tired of being apparently the only one of the Avengers to actually see them. At breakfast, after yet another glance, Nat’s face losing the blank mask for but a moment, Clint finally confronted her.

“What the hell is it with you and Stark?” You keep stealing glances at him, if you love him, tell him!”

To Clint’s utter surprise, the fearsome Black Widow’s face crumpled, and her eyes leaked tears, however briefly. Clint gaped, but before it could fully register, her face was stoic once more.

“Wha- What’s wrong? Is it something I said? Please?”

Natasha wiped away her tears with the back of her hand. “It’s fine,” she responded, voice steel despite the tear tracks on her cheeks. 

“You know I was an assassin for Hydra and the Red Room before I went freelance, and before you brought me in. That’s not the whole truth. I was born in the Soviet Union not in 1984, but in 1948. I was given a modified version of the Super Soldier Serum to enhance me and slow my aging. Tony Stark, or as I knew him then, Antoshka Baryanov, was a Soviet prodigy born just a couple years earlier, in 1946.

“He was given the same Serum, which is why he looks only to be in his late 20s, as opposed to his‘official’ recorded age of 38, or his actual age of 66. We were housed at the same facility. He was my assigned handler, and the Red Room’s Head of R&D. I had a bit of a crush on him, and he on me. Eventually, we fell in love, but had to keep our relationship secret, lest we both be executed.” Her voice broke here, but she forged on.

“In 1989, Antoshka was constructing designs for a new Hydra weapon, when the prototype exploded. It killed all 3 of his assistants, but not him. No, from him it took something much worse. He slammed his head on a table, and when he woke up, his memory was gone. Not all of it, no. He still had his personality, knew everything he had learned, how to walk and talk and speak, how to fire a gun, and how to build one, but his memories of me, of the Red Room, of Hydra were gone. They had no use for ‘damaged’ assets, so they instructed me to take him outside and execute him.

“I- I couldn’t do it. I sent him in the direction of the closest airport, and gave him a couple thousand dollars. 3 weeks later, and I learned that the Starks had taken him in. Maria Stark had been an agent of Hydra for a good while, so they fabricated an entire fake history for him, and a few years later, they had the Winter Soldier assassinate Maria and Howard Stark for treason against Hydra. And that’s that.”

Clint was astonished. “And he doesn’t remember you, at all?”

Natasha put her face in her hands with a muffled sob. “I say love is for children, because the only man I ever loved doesn’t remember. All love does is hurt.”

It was this precise moment at which the man in question happened to enter. Clint mentally cursed Tony’s timing. He knew it wasn’t fair to blame the man, Tony probably hadn’t wanted to lose his memories either.

Coming back to the present, he heard Tony ask if Nat was alright, and saw, as if in slow motion, the floor to ceiling windows explode inward, caught a glimpse of a helicopter hovering outside, and dove for cover. A spray of bullets covered the kitchen, followed by a missile, which took out the rest. Clint and Nat were shielded by the island, but he realized that not everyone was so lucky.

Tony was hurled backwards, and slid past the spies’ cover, chest slick with blood, and eyes blank. The rest of the Avengers charged in, taking down the helicopter, but all Clint could do was stare at Tony’s body, and the faint flicker of the ARC reactor. Finally, Steve noticed, and rushed over. Clint snapped back to reality, and swore. He checked Tony over, feeling for a pulse, and sat back, relieved when he found one. Steve was shouting.

“Jarvis, call Dr. Cho immediately! Tell her to ready the Med Bay! Bruce, help me!”

Steve and Bruce knelt and lifted Tony up, carrying him to the elevator. Tony coughed weakly. Clint could only watch as the doors closed.

<><><>

_November 7th, 2012_

_Avengers Tower Med Bay_

_New York, New York, United States of America (USA)_

_30 minutes later_

Dr. Cho was speaking.

“I can’t fix this. The damage is too extensive. My Cradle could maybe do it, but it’s at my lab in Seoul, and he’ll be long dead by then. Understand, the force of the blast caught him straight in the chest. His back is broken, and 2 of the bullets hit his ARC reactor. It’s currently non-functional, and the shrapnel in his chest is tearing apart his heart, only making his condition worse. He’ll be dead within the hour.”

Steve had sat down at some point, and Thor had stomped out just after. Bruce looked like he was barely managing not to turn green, and Clint was just shocked. Tony was the life of the Avengers. He couldn’t die. The man was so full of life and fun, always up for a prank, and no qualms about enjoying the good things. How could such vibrancy be gone in less than an hour?

Nat was the worst of them. She was a wreck, but she spoke up.

“No. I don’t accept this. There has to be something we can do.”

The desperation was clear in her voice. Bruce turned, face hard.

“There is one thing. Tony had developed a version of the Super Soldier Serum called Extremis. He perfected the idea from a Dr. Hansen. It could heal him, but it’s just as likely to kill him immediately.”

Clint gave the answer they all were thinking. 

“Use it. If there’s even a chance it could save him... then we have to try.”

Bruce left for his lab.

<><><>

_November 7th 2012_

_Avengers Tower Med Bay_

_New York, New York, United States of America (USA)_

_45 minutes later_

They were all gathered around Tony’s bedside when he woke, but the first person he laid eyes on was Natasha.

“... Natalia?”

Clint quickly shooed all the other Avengers out of the room, each giving him a questioning look. He gently closed the door behind him, but not before he heard Nat’s reaction.

“Antoshka?”

“мой паук ... я помhню.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation: My Spider, I remember.


	2. Chapter I

_March 16th, 1946_

_ Central Clinical Hospital _

_ Moscow, Union of the Soviet Socialist Republic (USSR) _

The squealing babe was brought forth, chocolate brown hair, and bright blue eyes. His father was long gone, and his mother, before she died in childbirth, named him Antoshka. Antoshka Baryanov. He was sent to a State Ward, where he lived for the next 11 years.

<><><>

_October 9th, 1948_

_Central Clinical Hospital_

_Moscow, Union of the Soviet Socialist Republic (USSR)_

The girl opened her eyes, bright green against pale skin and blood red hair. Her mother cradled her in her arms, and the father looked on proudly. She was named Natalia. Natalia Romanova.

<><><>

_November 23rd, 1952_

_Romanova Residence_

_Moscow, Union of the Soviet Socialist Republic (USSR)_

The four-year-old watched her house burn, her feet cold in the snow. She was too young to fully understand. A man came up to her. He knelt before her.

“Natalia? My name is Ivan. I work for the government, and I was a good friend of your family. Your parents asked me to pick you up and take you to my place. Will you come?”

The girl, not yet warned of the world’s dangers, went with him.

<><><>

_July 2nd, 1957_

_Department X Recruiting Facility, Kremlin_

_Moscow, Union of the Soviet Socialist Republic (USSR)_

Two men stood at the center of a room, their heads bent together, looking at a clipboard. The first man spoke:

“Antoshka... Baryanov? Are you sure, Ivan?”

The second man’s voice was deeper, more gravelly.

“Yes. Look at his test scores. They’re off the charts. IQ, Memory, Critical Thinking? He’s the prodigy we’re looking for.”

“If you say so, Ivan...”

<><><>

_July 14th, 1957_

_Rasputin State Orphanage_

_Moscow, Union of the Soviet Socialist Republic (USSR)_

The PA system blared through the halls.

“Antoshka Baryanov, report to the matron’s office. Antoshka Baryanov.”

The boy in question, but 11 years of age, looked up from his physics textbook, similar university-level texts scattered around him. One was on mechanical engineering, another on nuclear chemistry, and a third on the properties of Vibranium. Antoshka cracked his neck, stood up, and headed out the door.

Inside the matron’s office stood the matron herself, a plump woman in her mid forties, and another man, older, with a closed-off face. The matron spoke nervously.

“Antoshka, this is Mr...” her voice trailed off as the man stepped forward.

“You May call me Ivan. I work for a classified government division known as Department X. You’ll be coming with me.”

Antoshka edged back. “Why?”

The man sighed. “To be frank, you are a genius like that which this world has never seen, and we need people like you. Also, you don’t have a choice.”

<><><>

_January 10th, 1958_

_Red Room Academy_

_49 km outside St. Petersburg, Union of the Soviet Socialist Republic (USSR)_

The room was empty, but for a chair. It was a monstrosity, resembling a dentist’s chair on steroids. A door slammed open opposite it. Two men appeared in in the opening, dragging a boy between them. The boy was resisting with all his might, kicking and screaming.

“No! I’ll be good, I swear, please!”

Heedless to his cries, the men strapped the boy to his chair, and promptly left him there. It was an hour before another entered. It was a short, portly man, balding, and with glasses. He was being led by Ivan, the man who had taken Antoshka in the first place.

“Antoshka, this is Dr. Arnim Zola. He is the head scientist of Hydra, and a professional at ensuring the loyalty of our more... rebellious personnel. He came all the way from America to work with you personally. We’d normally use Dr. Faustus for someone of your status, but he is otherwise indisposed. You will become our Merchant. Our Merchant of Death.”

Antoshka had many questions, but voiced only one. “Why Hydra?”

“Idiot boy,” Ivan snapped. “Department X is a subdivision of Hydra. They provide us money and we provide them research and loyal soldiers.”

Dr. Zola stepped forward. He spoke to Ivan with a thick German accent.

“I shall need assistants.”

Ivan bowed. Whoever this Dr. Zola was, he commanded a lot of respect, Antoshka noted.

“You shall have them, Doctor.”

“Good.” Zola turned to Antoshka now. “I’m sure we’ll work well together.”

<><><>

_January 10th, 1958_

_Red Room Academy_

_49 km outside St. Petersburg, Union of the Soviet Socialist Republic (USSR)_

“ Fable ”

Antoshka struggled against his bonds. “No-ooo, please.”

“ Twelve ”

“ Ironmonger ”

Howls of pain rent the air. Zola forged on.

“ Mechanic ”

“ Forge ”

“ Nine ”

Antoshka was shaking, screaming, as currents of electricity branched through his brain.

“ Burning ”

“ Scars ”

“ Ten ”

“ Market ”

Zola peered over his glasses.

“Merchant?”

The response was resounding. 

“Never!”

Zola sighed and returned to work.


	3. Chapter II

_ January-February, 1958 _

_ Red Room Academy/Department X Main Facility _

_ 49 km outside St. Petersburg, Union of the Soviet Socialist Republic (USSR) _

“Merchant?”

“No!”

...

“Merchant?”

“No...”

...

“Merchant?”

“No?”

...

“Merchant?”

...

“Merchant?”

“Ready to Comply.”

Zola grinned. This one had resisted, but was always sweet when they submitted. Ivan had better make good use of this one.

<><><>

_1958-1969_

_Red Room Academy/Department X Main Facility_

_49 km outside St. Petersburg, Union of the Soviet Socialist Republic (USSR)_

The next 11 years were relatively peaceful. He developed new technology, went on the occasional mission, ran experiments. He spoke 17 languages, and was proficient in most forms of combat. He was 22 by then, but looked as though he was 20. This was due to an injection they had provided some years earlier, which slowed his aging to 1 physical year for every 10 chronological ones. He was monitoring their agents. There was one in particular. The Black Widow. She was the best they had, and a beautiful fighter.

...

Natalia was doing well. She was 20 now, and had graduated 4 years earlier, fluent in over 20 languages, and capable of matching most fighting styles. She was running missions, executing those who opposed the Department X and Hydra. Just a few months past, they had injected her with something that apparently slowed her aging. She was one of their top agents, named the Black Widow, for once a target was on her sights, they were as good as dead. Though, she was hearing rumours of another, the Merchant of Death. He was one of their higher ranking agents, involved in R&D as well as missions. From what she heard she was... interested, to say the least.

<><><>

_February 21st, 1969_

_Red Room Academy/Department X Main Facility_

_49 km outside St. Petersburg, Union of the Soviet Socialist Republic (USSR)_

“Agent Romanova.”

Natalia snapped to attention. Even 4 years after she graduated, Madame B still managed to sneak up on her.

“Ma’am.”

“Agent, you are being assigned a new handler. His name is Antoshka Baryanov, designation: Merchant of Death.”

“Ma’am?”

“He’ll run back-end on most of your missions, sometimes he’ll join you. You are to report to his lab at 21:30. Understand, this is not a punishment. You’re one of our best, and it’s only fair to pair you with one who can match you.”

Natalia’s face showed no expression. “I understand.”

...

Antoshka was working in his lab when Ivan entered.

“Baryanov! You’re being assigned an agent.”

“What? I work alone, you know that!”

“Need I remind you of your loyalties?”

He sighed. “Very well. Name?”

“Natalia Alianovna Romanova.”

“Interesting. Designation?”

“Black Widow.”

Antoshka ran a hand through his unruly black hair. “May I ask why?”

Ivan shrugged. “I don’t know. Madame B said something about being able to keep up with her pupil. All I know is you’ll be running back-end on her missions, and occasionally joining in, as well as training with her. She’ll be here at 21:30. Please try not to alienate her in the first 5 minutes.”

<><><>

_March 12th, 1969_

_Red Room Academy/Department X Main Facility_

_49 km outside St. Petersburg, Union of the Soviet Socialist Republic (USSR)_

Natalia was... intriguing. Short, with blood-red hair and green eyes, and quite attractive to boot. Not only that, she was also sly, and highly intelligent. He must admit, when he first saw her, he had a bit of an instant crush. She sauntered into his lab, and he was a goner.

...

Antoshka was  hot . That was Natalia’s professional opinion, anyways. He was competent and intelligent too, making him even more attractive. What’s more, they fit like they were made together. They conversed effortlessly, switching from Russian to German, to English, to Mandarin Chinese and back, sometimes in a single sentence. When they fought, they matched each other move for move, often sparring for hours at a time. Once, they fought for three days straight, until they both collapsed as one. She was a little smitten, okay?

<><><>

_August 4th, 1972_

_unidentified hotel_

_Marseille, France_

Antoshka pulled on his fitted suit jacket and tightened his tie, checking that his weapons were hidden. He checked himself in the mirror. His hair was dyed dirty blond, and styled in a short peak.

“Zip me up?”

Antoshka turned. Natalia was standing with her back to him, the zipper on her dress undone.

“Of course.”

He zipped her up, then turned her around. The strapless black dress hugged her curves, with a cut down the leg for movement. Her hair was its natural red, up an in an elaborate beehive. She was, quite honestly stunning. He noted the garrote in her corset, the knives in her heels, and pistols strapped to her legs. He nodded, confident that no one else would see them.

“Are you ready, Jennifer?” He spoke English, adopting an American accent. She did the same.

“Why wouldn’t I be, William?” She winked at him.

They left the room, slinking down the hall to the Indian ambassador’s suite. They seized the guards, choking them, hands over the guard’s mouths. They waited until they stopped struggling, then lowered them slowly to the floor. Looking at each other, they drew their weapons. Natalia nodded to Antoshka, and he opened the door. Natalia rolled into the room and came up knives slashing. Antoshka strode in behind her. He kicked down the door to the ambassador’s private bedchamber. The man was naked in bed with a younger woman, who couldn’t have been more than 14. When they entered, he scrambled backwards.

“No, please, don’t kill me! I- I have money! I’ll give you double whatever you’re being paid! I have a family!”

Natalia cracked her neck. “Is that why you’re in bed with her?”

The ambassador’s eyes widened. “No, I-“

His words were cut off when Natalia’s knife slashed through his throat. He died choking on his own blood. Antoshka beckoned to the young woman who had watched the whole thing with horror.

“C’mere, I won’t hurt you. Don’t worry. Our job was to kill him, not you. That’s right. Bring a pillow.”

The woman sighed in relief. She went over to him, bringing the pillow as asked. That was her mistake. As soon as she was in reach, Antoshka grabbed her and pinned her to the ground, holding the pillow over her face. He stuffed the pistol into the pillow, and squeezed the trigger. The blast was muffled by the stuffing.

He stood up, and they both headed into the suite’s bathroom. She pulled down her up-do as he washed the dye out of his hair, and flattened it. They left through the back stair, coming out by the kitchens. Natalia slid her arm through his, and they affected a drunken attitude. They turned a corner, meeting a group of bellboys taking a smoking break.

Antoshka smiled genially, like he hadn’t just coldly murdered a 14 year old girl, and participated in the assassination of a well-known ambassador.

“I’m sorry, boys, can you point us back to the lobby? I’m afraid we’ve gotten a bit lost...” One of the boys laughed and directed the clearly drunk American couple back to the front. He thought nothing of it, and did not remember them when the news of the ambassador’s death broke the next morning. By that time, Natalia and Antoshka were long gone.


	4. Chapter III

_ 1973-1988 _

_ Various locations _

_ Various countries _

They slowly fell in love over the course of many years. They trained each other, went on missions, and had incredible, passionate sex afterwards, though they took great pains to hide it, for if it were known, they would be considered compromised, and would both be executed. 

They built up a reputation in the intelligence world, such that the Black Widow and the Merchant of Death nearly approached the infamy of the notorious Winter Soldier. They had a combined kill count of well over a hundred notable persons. They were Hydra’s top agents.

<><><>

_December 21st, 1989_

_Red Room Academy/Department X Main Facility_

_49 km outside St. Petersburg, Russia_

Antoshka was constructing a new weapon for Hydra. Using Dr. Zola’s notes on the Tesseract, he had refined it to create an experimental explosive weapon using Tesseract energy. They were finally prepared to test it. Antoshka sealed the test room door, than turned to his assistants.

“Alright, Tchavsky, dial her up to level 3. Ilya, monitor magnetic fields. Korvich, fire on my command. Three, two, one, fire.”

One of the assistants turned in her chair. “Uh, Doctor? We’ve got major power fluctuations.”

Antoshka peered over her shoulder, then turned, eyes wide, to the now shuddering device. “Oh, _fuck_ .”

The blast tore through the room. Blue light enveloped all, and Antoshka was hurled backwards. His head slammed into something, and all went black.

<><><>

_December 22nd, 1989_

_Red Room Academy/Department X Main Facility_

_49 km outside St. Petersburg, Russia_

Natalia waited, face expressionless, but heart breaking, for news. Eventually, a handler approaches her.

“He’s lost his memories. Hydra has no more use for him. You are to take him a few kilometres from here and execute him.” His words were blunt.

Natalia was lost. Some of it must have showed on her face because the handler spoke again. “Will that be a problem, Agent Romanova?”

She schooled her calm mask back into place. “No sir, it will not.”

Later that night, after she’d sent him off, unable to drive a bullet into the skull of the man she loved, she cried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys liked it! If you did, consider leaving kudos?

**Author's Note:**

> Russian Translation: My spider... I remember.


End file.
